


nothing but

by clayisforgirls



Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-20
Updated: 2015-07-20
Packaged: 2018-04-10 07:32:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4382840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clayisforgirls/pseuds/clayisforgirls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"he isn't sure if they can survive this, hard enough last year when they played each other and that wasn't anywhere near as big"</p><p>Takes place during the 2007 US Open, right after Andy's fourth round win against Mario Ancic. Mardy had won a few hours earlier. Originally posted in January 2007.</p>
            </blockquote>





	nothing but

The moment that Jim Courier says that he'll be playing someone he lived with, he feels sick. No, it's worse than sick, he's sure he goes white, doesn't really hear what he's saying because there's only one person on tour that he's lived with, and that's Mardy. He nervously wipes his hands, twitching as he tunes back into the question. But he can't shake the dread as he talks, tries to take up the three minutes but it doesn't quite work.

"What do you want to talk about?" he hears Jim ask and h distracts him, touching his hair and complimenting his clothes because he's seen the interviews, knows how much Jim loves the flirting, even if it's only fake just like last time, and he's relieved when he's allowed to leave the court without another question about the man he loves.

Or maybe that should be loved now, because he isn't sure if they can survive this, hard enough last year when they played each other and that wasn't anywhere near as big as this. Not the quarterfinal of a slam.

The press conference is just going through the motions, giving the answers what he thinks they want to hear except it seems longer than usual, every single reporter aware of the history between him and Mardy. Or, what they think is the history, because it's so much more than just ex-housemates and friends.

There's a mumbled excuse to Jimmy and John about where he's going before he climbs into the waiting car, no casino tonight, at least, not until he's seen his Mardy, not until he's searched every single place the blonde could possibly be because he has to find him. He has to know they'll be okay, no matter what, because they both hate to lose. Especially to each other. And this is far more important than a game of scrabble or a first round match in some tournament no one has ever heard of.

He's not sure he breathes as he waits for the elevator, tapping his hip impatiently for twenty-seven seconds, choosing to run up the stairs instead and he's sore and tired and his lungs are burning but he doesn't care. The fifth floor seems too far though he's still fumbling for his key that Mardy had pressed into the palm of his hand the first night he was there, soft kiss pressed to the side of his mouth and he'd forgiven him for everything that in moment.

Mardy's perfectly still on the bed as he opens the door, eyes closed and still fully clothed, one hand resting on the laptop by his side, the other being used as pillow, and Andy smiles, because he knows Mardy knows, had been told as much by every single person he'd run into after his match, and he still hadn't run. Not like last time where they hadn't spoken for days before, when Mardy couldn't look him in the eyes for a week after.

It's fixed now, or at least he hopes it is as he pulls his shoes off before climbing onto the bed next to Mardy, draping his arm over Mardy's stomach as he curls around the familiar body, and though Mardy doesn't move, long eyelashes still resting against pale skin, he knows he's awake, and he tenses just slightly before Mardy shifts, hand at Andy's neck, absently rubbing the top of his spin and he has to fight back a whimper because Mardy knows him better than he knows himself sometimes.

"I didn't think you'd come," Mardy says quietly after a few minutes, hand drifting along his back. "Not after last time."

"Different now," he murmurs back, suddenly tired from the match, or maybe it was the worry over the best thing that's ever happened to him, or that Mardy's such a good pillow. More than likely it's a combination of the three. "Right?"

He feels Mardy smile, replying with just a kiss pressed against his forehead and he shifts closer to the blonde, though his hair is more of a light brown now and though Andy would never tell Mardy, he misses the blonde highlights that come out of a bottle, something he's always going to keep a secret because he knows Mardy would kill him if he didn't.

"We'll be okay," he says though a sleepy haze, sure his words slurred together but Mardy's good at understanding Andytalk and he's almost sure he understood, "love winning but love you more." And the he pauses for a second, almost enough time to let Mardy speak but not quite. "Jimmy'll kill me for this."

It makes Mardy chuckle, a smile brushed across his lips as a kiss as Mardy shifts closer and he finds his face in Mardy's neck, and there's that unmistakeable smell of Mardy, the one thing he'd missed most of all.

"He'll find out in two days," Mardy says, seriously, and he knows it's true, can see them wrapped around each other in the locker room afterwards no matter what happens. If he wins, it'll be Mardy in his arms, and he'll be kissing away the salty tears, and he can almost taste them now, and if it's Mardy who wins, it'll be the other way around. It's happened before, back in 2003 in Cincinnati, except it was Brad who walked in on them, his hand threaded in Mardy's hair, Mardy's head in his lap. Except it might be worse with Jimmy, because he's Jimmy Connors and not someone who Andy feels like he has any right to yell at.

"Stop worrying," and Andy chuckles because it's almost scary how well Mardy knows him.

"Was not."

"You had that frowny-pouty thing going on, and that means you're worrying over this," and Mardy sounds so damn smug that suddenly he's more awake and though they're still tangled together, he sticks his tongue out, almost reaching Mardy's lips with it.

"I did not."

"Great. I'm in bed with a five year old," Mardy teases, rolling his eyes and he glares, sticking his tongue out more but it only causes Mardy to laugh at him.

"If I'm five, that makes you a pervert," he teases back, hand keeping Mardy exactly where he is, fingers threaded through too-short hair before he kisses him, sucking on Mardy's top lip gently before he pulls back, just the way that Mardy loves it.

"Brat," he says breathlessly, but it's clear to Andy that he doesn't mean it, the smile on his face belying the words. "Sleep."

"Not tired anymore, I," he starts, but he yawns, and before Mardy can laugh he gives him a look. "Not a word."

"I wasn't going to," but there's a quirk to his lips and Andy doesn't believe him. He knows Mardy as well as Mardy knows him, spent years watching every reaction, every expression, even the tiniest things that no one else would notice or even know and it's something that makes him truly happy, glad that Mardy picked him to know these things because life wouldn't be half as fun without his Mardy. He probably wouldn't get teased as much or end up in stupid fights either, but he'll take them as long as Mardy doesn't leave again.

"Missed sleeping with you," he mumbles into Mardy's neck, so soft that he isn't even sure Mardy hears him at first.

He knows he did when they're completely intertwined, just like they used to sleep in his bed, first in Florida, then in Texas, always at hotels throughout the world because his past coaches never cared. It never really mattered. Not like it does now.

When Jimmy finds out, he'll get an ass kicking and he knows it, the lecture on how he shouldn't be sleeping around because he's heard it before. Except this isn't the same. It's his Mardy, not someone random, not a one-time thing. He'll want to scream that they've been doing this for years and it hasn't hurt, that he got a congratulatory fuck when he won his one and only slam.

But he won't. He'd never yell at Jimmy, almost too scared of him to even talk back sometimes, but mostly in awe because it's Jimmy Connors and takes everything he says so literally he'll find John laughing at him sometimes.

"You're worrying again," Mardy breathes against his neck, and he just smiles.

Andy doesn't say a word, just nods and closes his eyes. Because it's then that he knows if Jimmy makes him choose between the good results and Mardy, he knows exactly what he'd tell him.

It'd just mean he'd have to look for another coach.


End file.
